He read again a section about how the wizards were becoming fearful that the sliph would bring something through that they wouldn’t be able to stop. The war was a frightening mystery to Richard. Each side created things of magic, mostly creatures designed for one purpose, such as the dream walkers, and the other side had to react with a counter to it, if they could. It was appalling to discover that some of these creatures were created out of people—out of wizards themselves. They were that desperate.
Day by day, they became more and more concerned that before the towers could be completed, the sliph—which in itself was created of their magic to allow them to move great distances to attack the enemy and turned out to be a great danger as well as a benefit—would bring something unexpected that they couldn’t handle. They said that when the towers were competed, the sliph could go to sleep. Richard wondered constantly what the sliph was and how it could go to “sleep,” and how they would wake it later, after the war, as they said they hoped to do.
The wizards decided that because of the danger of attack through the sliph, some of the more important, valuable, or more dangerous things, had to be moved from the Keep for protection. The last of the items deemed most in need of safekeeping had long ago been taken to this haven, and then Kolo said:
Today, one of our most coveted desires, possible only through the brilliant, tireless work of a team of near to one hundred, has been accomplished. The items most feared lost, should we be overrun, have been protected. A cheer went up from all in the Keep when we received word today that we were successful. Some thought it was not possible, but to the astonishment of all, it is done: The Temple of the Winds is gone.
Gone? What was the Temple of the Winds, and where did it go? Kolo’s journal didn’t provide an explanation.
Richard scratched the back of his neck as he yawned. He could hardly keep his eyes open any longer. There was so much more to read, but he needed sleep. He wanted Kahlan back so he could protect her from the dream walker. He wanted to see Zedd so he could tell him about the things he had learned.
Richard rose and shuffled toward the door.
“Going off to bed to dream about me?” Cara asked.
Richard smiled. “Always do. Wake me if—”
“If a messenger comes. Yes, yes, I think you’ve mentioned it.”
Richard nodded and started for the door. Cara caught his arm.
“Lord Rahl, they will find her. She will be safe. Rest well; D’Harans are looking, and they will not fail.”
Richard patted her shoulder as he left. “I’ll leave the journal here, so when Berdine wakes she can work on it.”
He yawned and rubbed his eyes as he went to his room, not far down the hall. He only bothered to pull off his boots and slip the baldric over his head, placing the Sword of Truth on a chair before he fell into the bed. Despite his worry about Kahlan, he was asleep in seconds.
He was having a troubling dream about her when a loud knock woke him. He rolled over onto his back. The door burst open and there was sudden light. He could see Cara carrying a lamp. She moved to the side of his bed, lighting another lamp.
“Lord Rahl, wake up. Wake up.”
“I’m awake.” He sat up. “What is it? How long have I been asleep?”
“Maybe four hours. Berdine has been working on the book for a couple of hours, and got all excited about something and wanted to wake you to help her, but I wouldn’t let her.”
“Then why did you wake me now? Is it a messenger?”
“Yes. A messenger is here.”
Richard almost flopped back into bed. Messengers never brought any news.
“Lord Rahl, get up. The messenger has news.”
Richard came awake as if a bell had rung in his head. He swung his feet over the side of the bed and pulled his boots one in one big rush. “Where is he?”
“They’re bringing him.”
Just then, Ulic rushed in, helping a man he had with him. The soldier looked as if he had been riding hard for weeks. He could hardly stand on his own.
“Lord Rahl, I bring a message.” Richard gestured for the young soldier to sit on the edge of the bed, but he waved off the offer, wanting to talk instead. “We found something. General Reibisch told me to tell you first not to be frightened. We didn’t find her body, so she must still be alive.”
“What did you find!” Richard realized he was shaking.
The man reached under the leather of his uniform and pulled something out. Richard snatched it up and let it unfold so he could see it. It was a crimson cape.
“We found the site of a battle. There were dead men wearing these capes. Lots of dead men. Maybe a hundred.” He pulled out something else and handed it over.
Richard unfolded it. It was a roughly cut piece of faded blue cloth with four gold tassels along one edge.
“Lunetta,” he breathed. “This is Lunetta’s.”
“General Reibisch said to tell you that there was a battle. There were many dead Blood of the Fold. There were trees that were blown down by blasts of fire, as if magic had been used in the battle. There were burned bodies, too.
“They found only one body that was not Blood of the Fold. He was a D’Haran. A big man with only one eye, with a scar over where the other was sewn shut.”
“Orsk! That’s Orsk! He was Kahlan’s guard!”
“General Reibisch said to tell you that there was no sign that she or anyone else with her was killed. It appears that they put up a furious fight, but then they were captured.”
Richard
grabbed the soldier’s arm. “Do the trackers have any idea which direction they went?” Richard was furious with himself because he hadn’t gone. If he had gone, he would already be on the trail. Now it would take him weeks to catch up.
“General Reibisch said to tell you that the trackers are pretty sure they went south.”
“South? South?” Richard had been sure that Brogan would flee with his prize to Nicobarese. With that many bodies, Gratch must have fought furiously. They must have captured him, too.
“They said they couldn’t be sure because it happened so long ago. It snowed more, and now the snow is melting, so it’s hard to track, but he believes they went to the south, and his whole force is going after your queen.”
“South,” Richard murmured. “South.”
He raked his fingers back through his hair, trying to think. Brogan had fled rather than join with Richard and his cause against the Order. The Blood of the Fold had joined with the Imperial Order. The Imperial Order ruled the Old World. The Old World was to the south.
General Reibisch was tracking her south—going after his queen. South.
What was it the mriswith in the Keep had said?
The queen needs you, skin brother. You must help her.
They were trying to help him. His mriswith friends were trying to help him.
Richard snatched up his sword and shoved his head through the loop of leather baldric. “I have to go.”
“We go with you,” Cara said. Ulic nodded his agreement.
“You can’t go where I go. Take care of things for me.” He turned to the soldier. “Where’s your horse?”
He pointed. “Out that way and over in the next courtyard. But she’s pretty footsore.”
“She only has to get me to the Keep.”
“The Keep!” Cara clutched his arm. “Why are you going to the Keep?”
Richard pulled his arm away. “That’s the only way to get to the Old World in time.”
She started objecting, but he was already running down the hall. Others were joining in the rush to catch up with him. He could heard the jangle of armor and weapons behind, but he didn’t slow. He didn’t listen to Cara’s pleas as he tried to think.